


Green Tea

by Evamylee



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Izaya is very philosophical, M/M, Mentions of Rape, Smut, Violence, Yaoi, and a pest, more tags will be added, of course, really this is just a self-indulgent hurt/ comfort fic, very Shizaya-resque, your stereotypical Shizaya fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3649023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evamylee/pseuds/Evamylee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day Shizuo finds something on his way home which he isn't sure if it wouldn't have been better to ignore. </p>
<p>If he tries to help Izaya, will everything turn out fine for once? Or will it destroy one of them completely in the end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Shizaya fic ever. I know it's disgustingly self-indulgent and the theme not really the most original. There must be hundreds of these Shizaya fics out there.  
> Never the less I thought I'd join in with my own little drama here, I hope you enjoy it ^^

Being the violent creature he was, Heiwajima Shizuo's eyes had seen some pretty fucked up shit. He was bound to witness, and sadly often be the initiator himself, of serious and nasty injuries. He often found himself in minor gang wars, rare but yet still happening, and outwardly stupid one man assaults. Even when he was only being a bystander he often ended up, one way or another, caught up in a brawl. But he learned how to cope with it over time. He could deal with the sound and the feeling of breaking bones beneath his fist. He probably got to see blood more often than a legitimate practising doctor out there. That fact in itself, too obscure and quite sad. He knew how quick some people were, to whip out knives, steel pipes, guns. Almost on a daily basis, he got around to a situation where he needed to pound one of those pitiful individuals into oblivion. Granted, his job did little to avoid these incidents, rather provoked them further.

Yet the sight laid out in front of him right now was a dare to his stomach to get rid of its contents.

Shizuo had been on his way home, after parting from his boss and friend Tom, and wanted nothing more then to fall face first into his bed. But fate seemed to have other plans. Cruel ones, mocking him, spitting into his face and laughing at him while he needed to decide which path could possibly be the one with the least malady.

Taking a short-cut through a back alley, he practically stumbled over something he'd gladly never came across, out of two reasons:

Number one: The vile and evil things done to the victims body were too much, even for Ikebukuro's strongest man. And second, he wouldn't even wish his worst enemy something like this to happen to them. Because, despite a certain saying, he was in fact no monster. How cruelly ironical that just this person was currently lying to his feet, on the dirty ground, unconscious and seemingly barely alive.

When realization struck him, Shizuo remained rigid, starring at his Nemesis, merely able to recognize him as such. His brain only seemed to produce white noise, as it tried hard to come up with something, anything.

Slowly the blond kneeled down, next to the messy bunch of raven hair and mechanically he reached out to see if the smaller man was still alive. An oddly surprising wave of relieve washed over Shizuo, when he felt a weak but steady pulse.

His golden eyes started wandering over the skinny body that lay there between trash and dirt. The raven was covered in blood, his clothes were torn and seemed strangely thrown onto him, as if someone else had dressed him uncaringly. He was bruised, covered in scratches. Some of the wounds had a sickening familiarity with bite marks. The usually silky, raven hair was sticky, crusted with half dried blood and other things Shizuos mind refused to acknowledge.

Everything was suddenly askew in this surreal moment, in which Shizuo wasn't able to tell nightmare apart from reality. A part of him screamed in the back of his head to get the fuck out of here and just walk away.

He stoically picked up the remaining pieces of his most hated being.

On the other hand there really was no other option, he told himself soberly. His inner conflict felt rather unimportant as he felt the weight in his arms, or better the lack of it.

Like remote controlled he quickly walked home, thank god not crossing any passersby, thanks to the late hour. Arriving at home, he kicked the front door shut, and hurried to the bathroom. He flicked on the light, sunk to his knees and lay down the frail figure on the tiled bathroom floor.

If there had been any doubts left, they now were all smashed and replaced with another, stronger wave of shock. The brutal bright light showed him a body that was right out of a horror movie.

”What the hell flea?” Shizuo whispered breathlessly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three whole hours had passed since Shizuo had carefully washed Izaya, dressed him into fresh clothes, bandaged him up as best as he could. Blood loss appeared to be the main problem, but Shizuo, too was suspicious of one or two broken ribs, a fractured wrist and his right shin was bruised dark violet and swollen. By all means, Shizuo was no doctor, but he had had one or two visits to a hospital in his lifetime himself. There was probably not a single bone left on him that hadn't been broken at some point. He also was pretty sure none of Izaya's ribs punctured his loungs, which had happened to himself trice. His biggest concern was the blood loss and if there was internal bleeding. Right now the raven breathed evenly and Shizuo even checked his pulse which was still slightly low but ok.

He decided only to call Shinra if Izayas condition worsened or he didn't wake up until tomorrow morning.

The last thing Shizuo needed right now was someone to talk to. He had to digest everything first, think and look what this would turn into. He caught himself thinking that Izaya wouldn't want that either. It was egoistic to no end, minding the given circumstance, and definitely out of character for him, but what the hell even was like usual in this situation?

To his great relieve Izaya finally stirred, on the couch. He coughed a weak staccato that sounded painful and cracked open his eyes. The first time gold met ruby, it was like a slap to the blonds face. No shine was in the bloody red that always seemed to taunt him. Izayas gaze was dull... empty... scared.

Shizuo meant to catch a flicker of surprise in them, it was gone before he could be sure. The blond debt collector finally realized that he was waiting for the other to start talking, to ask why, to insult him for offering his help, taunt him, laugh at him, threaten him...

Nothing. Izaya just starred blankly until Shizuo was sure his mind had wandered off. He awkwardly cleared his throat.

“H-how are you?”

A short heavy breath escaped those bruised lips, too weak to be called a snort, and his features remained stoic.

”Look... “ Shizuo sighed. ”I don't mean to scare you and I can only imagine what happened... but you'll have to talk to me to get us somewhere.”

For the first time in his life, Shizuo actually wanted the flea to talk to him and what did he do? Shizuo once more sighed in exasperation and took a step towards the raven.

"Stay the fuck away from me!” Izaya hissed, giving the blond the feeling as if he'd just stepped on a cobra and he halted immediately.

”Izaya I...”

The ravens body snapped violently into a tight, curled up position, grabbing his head at each side, he shot a glare at Shizuo that sent a chill down his spine. And that was not something that happened everyday.

“Ok.” Shizuo's arm fell back to his side, which he hadn't realized he'd even raised.

”Ok, I won't come near you.” He carefully moved towards a chair opposite of his couch.

Izaya's eyes remained fixed on the spot Shizuo's legs had been just a few moments ago. When the blond sat, he spoke up again:

“Izaya... I found you and... I took you off the streets so... what Im trying to say is, I promise I won't harm you.”

Izaya drew in a deep, shaky breath. Shizuo didn't know what exactly broke, but here he was sitting in his living room, trying to comfort Orihara Izaya and actually feeling something resembling sympathy towards his archenemy. He saw how tense Izaya's jaw was clenched, his whole body cramped up to the point he was slightly trembling.

”I need you to tell me if you're hurt... in a way I can't tell. Do you want me to call Shinra?”

Izaya crooked his head to the side, glancing at the blond. A heavy pause settled for a while then...

“Alright... good! If you're going to die here, because you couldn't get your fucking mouth open, be my guest.”

The scary part was Shizuo wasn't angry. He was anxious and nervous.

”I'm going to call Shinra.” He decided promptly and got to his feet.

”Don't!” The one word was raspy, yet softly spoken. Almost like a plea.

Shizuo halted, scrutinizing the smaller man suspiciously.

“You sure?”

Izaya nodded, then hid his face between his arms hugging his knees.

“´Kay.” Shizuo sat down again.

”Tell me what happened?” he asked softly.

A sound like a muffled, nervous chuckle was heard, and judging from the increased trembling, Shizuo assumed it was a no.

If there was still one thing left on this planet that could irritate the blond any further, it was what he was about to witness.

It began with a quiet sniffling noise, Shizuo didn't understand at first. A painful sob let him freeze and then he knew.

He was sitting here, at 2:14 am, with Orihara Izaya crying and hurting an his couch, in his rundown ´Bukuro apartment. Because he'd tried to help him. Because he couldn't just watch and carry on like nothing had happened. He should have killed him. He should have given the final blow when he realized what was in front of him in that filthy and dark corner of the city.

But instead he sat here, feeling miserably useless. What on earth could he say? What was he supposed to do to lessen that pain? The moment had come, unexpected and without any kind of warning, that Shizuo broke under Izaya. That it had to be like this... who could have known?

All Shizuo knew was that it hurt to see Izaya like this. Izaya was supposed to be a pest. A bloodsucking flea, born to drain his blood and nerves and his luck and happiness. An evil creature that only knew destruction and how to force it upon him. Izaya was not supposed to sit here in his home, vulnerable and weak, delicate and fragile, crying his heart out and tearing open Shizuo's.

Without thinking Shizuo moved to sit next to his enemy and gently wound an arm around those thin and quivering shoulders. Izaya flinched violently but couldn't muster the strength to shake him off. Shizuos arm was warm and soothing, drawing soft circles on his shoulder. The hidden strength in the comforting touch didn't scare Izaya, it felt... comforting.

His cramped up body slowly relaxed and his sobbing got more and more quiet.

”I'm sorry. I dont know what to say.”

Izaya shook his head, still hiding his face and so told Shizuo that he didn't need him to say anything. Izaya would be confused right now. He would threaten the beast to move away from him and then gleefully mock him for getting soft. But his mind was too dominated by darkness and pain. He still worked to comprehend what had happened to him. There were no mistakes he'd made he could blame this on, except his excessive lifestyle as a whole. Even though he would loath to blame someone else and probably leading the trail back to himself eventually.

And now? What will this rapidly growing demon, inside of him become? Was this fear? The warm touch around his freezing form was heavy but not quite uncomfortable. Did he become soft now? Was the great Orihara Izaya crying like a baby, craving the comfort of another human being? No. Not a human. A monster... He lost himself in the embrace of a monster. How cruel of his beast to trick him like that.

But it did feel good. Maybe he was becoming something similar to his much hated beast? He hadn't considered himself really human anyway. Not inhuman, but yet a little more than the rest. His ability to see and do so much more than his beloved and simple mankind. How did he fail to see this coming? Shizuo spoke meaningless words, a pathetic excuse to seem like one of them. He didn't want him to be, it would infuriate Izaya. After all, humans were the ones who did this to him...

No, he decided he was not one of them.

 

Shizuo watched silently how Izaya sobbed exhaustedly, his body becoming slack, his head sinking sideways until he lay entirely in Shizuos lap, and finally cried himself to sleep. Shizuo was watching the world he'd believed in crumble and then taking form anew. Weights shifted without him taking notice. Yes, he hated the flea. Yes he wanted justice.

Was this right?

No. If there was someone who could do this (oh and Shizuo knew there were bad people out there), but could do this to the flea... his flea! Something needed to be done. The two enemy's may liked to threaten each others lives, play their dangerous dance of death. But there had always been unspoken rules.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Shizuo woke due to the bright sunlight flooding his living room. He groaned tiredly but hadn't forgotten why he was sleeping uncomfortably sprawled over his couch, that did not really fit his body length. He pressed his palms over his eyes, rubbing out the remnants of sleep and quickly got up.

He trudged down the hall then carefully pushed open the door to his bedroom. The blinds were down and the room was merely lit with the light coming from the hall. Izaya was sleeping at the far end of the bed, with his body turned to the wall. If Shizuo wouldn't know any better, he'd say the flea was dead, or at least he hoped so.

The blond tiptoed inside to take a closer look at the small raven and inwardly fought to accept that he indeed was worried. Izaya was pale and appeared even more so in the contrast to his pitch black hair and the dull light. His eyes were swollen and one was circled faintly violet. Maybe it was the circumstance, maybe just plain imagination but he looked awfully frail and skinny in the white, much too large t-shirt that belonged to Shizuo. Now being closer he saw that Izaya was sweating and breathing heavily. Shizuo hesitated... but recalling yesterday, he had to admit it was ridiculous to shy away from body contact now, so he gently placed his hand over the other's forehead.

He was burning.

The blond spent the whole morning, changing wet cloths for Izaya, watching his condition, contemplating to call Shinra after all. He did call Tom to call in sick. He made breakfast and ended up eating two portions because Izaya did not wake up.

The blond now had a lot of time to think about why the hell he was doing all this. To save the flea and wanting to find those bastards who did this, was one thing. To worry and care for him, to call in sick even though he was asleep anyway was something completely different. Maybe it was because Shizuo simply was not the person who could act like nothing was wrong. If he would come home, finding Izaya had died, he wouldn't just brush it off and go on with his day to day life. He had to at least make sure Izaya was out of danger... or so he told himself.

Around two in the afternoon his cellphone vibrated in his pocket, announcing he got a text message from Celty. She wrote him, she'd met Tom and he'd told her that Shizuo was sick. She wanted to come check on him but he hastily turned her down, saying he just wanted to get some rest.

He didn't know why exactly he felt relieved, until his phone buzzed again only half an hour later. This time Shinra called. Contemplating whether to pick up or not, he eventually decided it couldn't do any harm, right?

“Hello?”

”Shizuo? Oh, stop the drama, you're the worst actor in Japanese history. What's wrong? You're not really sick, so what's going on?” The doctor chatted away in his happy go lucky tone.

Shizuo faltered. “B- but how'd you know?”

He heard the young doctor sighing on the other end of the line. “Because you tried to act just now and let me tell you, that is not how you sound when you have a cold. Just talking all weak and slow isn't gonna cover up when you're not even hoarse. So, what's going on?”

“I eh- nothing. I just didn't want to go to work today and-”

“Oh cut it out Shizuo! I just told you, you're the worst when it comes to acting or lying. I don't feel like prying, but Celty is worried and I can't have that. My beautiful angel is just too pure for this world, don't you think? I couldn't care less why you decided to ditch work, but she came in here, like a little spring tornado and told me you wouldn't even tell her. I should be concerned why she worries so much about another man, but her well-being comes first. See how I care for Celty? And you lied to-”

“SHINRA! That's enough ok? I have something I have to take care of. Just tell Celty there's no need to worry and-”

A loud thud coming from behind him let Shizuo stop mid-sentence. He turned and saw Izaya sitting in the doorway to his bedroom, sunken down on the floor.

He was breathing hard and holding his side. Slowly Izaya looked up at him with one eye from under his sweaty bangs, his other one pinched close in exertion.

“I'll call you back.”

“But Shizuo, I don't think Celty will-”

Shizuo snapped shut his phone, not listening to the young doctor anymore. His eyes were fixed on Izaya, and likewise Izaya was silently starring back up at him.

“Where do you think you're going?”

Finally Izaya broke eye contact by averting his gaze to the floor, huffing exhaustedly but also mocking.

“Back home. What do you think?”

Shizuo could tell by his voice that Izaya still ran a high fever and was by no means in the condition to go anywhere. But knowing the stubborn louse, he'd probably die trying before admitting defeat, and so Shizuo crossed the room with few wide strides.

“You can't even stand. Are you trying to sneak out?”

“Just get out of my way.” Izaya gasped and tried to pull himself up on the door frame. Shizuo made no move to help him and just watched with a plain expression how the smaller man tried to keep a steady stance.

Izaya rested his back against the wall for support, his forehead glistening with sweat. He didn't stop to try and catch his breath, but pushed forward. Before he even reached the sofa though, his knees gave way under him and again he sunk down in a heap of heavy breathing and pained shakes.

“Ok, that's enough.” The blond muttered. He stepped next to Izaya and picked him up, throwing him unceremoniously over his right shoulder, ignoring the pained hiss, and walked back into the bedroom.

“You know Shizu-chan hahhh... you sure are a neanderthal. I feel like your prey, doomed to be -OUCH!”

Shizuo plopped him down on the thin mattress without much fussing. Two rubies glared up at him filled with hate.

“...doomed to be lynched in your cave.” Izaya finished his sentence with murderous intent dripping from his voice.

“I told you I'm not gonna hurt you.” He knew how ridiculous his statement sounded. How painfully the desperation for a chance was audible, even if he never intended to let it show.

A small huff broke past Izaya's pale lips. “So this is how you try to show redemption? Why now, Shizu-chan?”

There was nothing but sarcasm in Izayas voice. It was clear as day that he didn't trust him, and why should he really? If their places were switched, Shizuo wouldn't stay a single second longer in his enemy's bedroom.

“You can't leave like this. You have a fever and you're still wounded. Also you don't have any proper clothes.”

“Then why don't you get me some?” Izaya hissed challenging, his eyes turning to slits.

After a few seconds of mutually trying to stare each other to death, Shizuo finally sighed and pulled out his crumpled pack of cigarettes.

“Just try to sleep a bit more. I promise I won't kill you in your sleep. I'll see what I can do.”

He knew his behaviour was highly suspicious and out of character, but it was true. Izaya couldn't leave in just a pair of boxers and a three sizes too large shirt. His own clothes were torn beyond utility and he couldn't stay here forever. Shizuo didn't even want to have him here.

“I don't want your _help_.” The last word Izaya spat with such disgust that Shizuo had to refrain from crushing his cigarette and punching the louse in the face.

“Yeah? Well too bad no one asked for your opinion.” He retorted pissed and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him shut.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

 

* * *

 

“Thanks Celty. I wouldn't know what to do if you wouldn't help me with this.”

The headless rider handed Shizuo a bag with clothes from Izayas apartment and then quickly typed something on her PDA.

{Are you sure this is ok?}

He could tell she was worried by the way she cocked her head to the side and observed him closely.

“Yeah it's fine. Just please don't tell Shinra- just don't tell anyone ok? This whole situation is insane enough already.”

Celty nodded thoughtfully, then started typing again.

{When he bothers you too much just give me a call. Even injured he can still be incredible insufferable.}

“Hah!” Shizuo barked without any real amusement. “If he wouldn't be that beat up already, I'd do it. Ungrateful little shit.”

Celty was surprised to hear somber sincerity shadowing her friend's words, but she didn't comment on it.

“Thanks again for getting that. I'll go see if he's still kicking.” Shizuo waved at her with the bag in his hand as she mounted Shooter. She gave him a nod and drove off with an anxious feeling in her gut.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was the right decision to keep the flea here. Despite his attempted escape and the violent display of disgust of being here, Izaya slept the rest of the day. In the late afternoon his fever ran high again, had him mumbling in his sleep. Shizuo couldn't do much but replacing the wet cloth on his forehead.

The sun was setting by now and dove the little Bukuro apartment into bright orange light. Shizuo sat on the corner of his bed, watching the flea sleep, softly thrashing his head from side to side every now and again.

There was a slight crease between his brows, his face was flushed and the raven hair, framing his face, stuck to his sallow skin from perspiration.

It's not like Shizuo didn't know Izaya was undoubtedly on the upper scale of handsome, and even his miserable state could only do so much to conceal. Maybe it was the hate that made him blind to it, maybe he just simply refused to acknowledge it. But watching Izaya sleep, being so vulnerable, so calm... he just couldn't deny how delicate and captivatingly beautiful his enemy looked. This moment of new revelation would've been a good time to reconsider his sanity and maybe jump from Sunshine 60.

No, there simply hadn't been enough time yet to stomach the last twenty-four hours. How for Chris-sake was he supposed to react? He found Izaya, beaten half to death, probably raped, and he had nothing better to do than take him home and tend to his wounds? And then... then this stupid asshole cried. Orihara Izaya cried his heart out on his shoulder, like a broken, little schoolgirl. What the hell was Shizuo supposed to do, punch him in the face?

It was all Izaya's fault, like always. The louse should not be allowed to be this weak, so... in need of help. He was a pest. He ruined people's lives and laughed. He was evil and Shizuo hated him. Hated him like he could never hate anything else.

A groan tore Shizuo out of his self-imposed rancour mantra and his eyes snapped up in time to see Izaya opening his ruby ones.

The informant opened his mouth to certainly say something spiteful, but all that came out was a rattle in his throat, followed by violent coughing.

Shizuo watched calmly until Izaya caught himself again and rolled on his side with watery eyes.

“I don't know for what I should thank you first Shizu-chan. Not killing me in my sleep, or for watching me like the abnormal creep, that you are.”

It was astonishing that Izaya only needed about twenty seconds of conciousness to aggravate him so much that Shizuo wasn't sure if he didn't crack his own knuckles, from trying not to flatten the flea to the point he could send him home per envelope.

Trying to control the upcoming fury he stayed silent.

“Hah, figures your brain plays dead now. Ah, sorry sorry. You are a brainless beast after all, ne? So why am I even trying to hold something resembling to a proper con-”

“Enough!”

For only the fraction of a second Izaya looked startled before an utterly pleased grin broke out on his face.

“Aw Shizu-chan. Did I make you mad?”

“ _Just_... just shut up.” Slowly he got the nagging suspicion that this exhausting feeling would stay as long as Izaya did.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, breathing in and out.

“Celty brought you clothes. I told her to not tell anyone.”

Izaya's features relaxed a bit. Condescendingly he raised an eyebrow, asking: “So? Where are they?”

Shizuo stared at him, contemplating.

“When you can get up and change on your own, you're free to go. I'm not going to help you so you can leave and collapse somewhere and probably die anyway.”

“Let me tell you about this amazing new thing called a taxi, Shizu-chan. Also you can't keep me here against my will. I could call the police.” The last sentence Izaya spoke like a suggestion and that highly amused.

“And tell them what? That I saved your sorry ass?”

Izaya's eyes darkened with his trademark grin. “You are holding me captive here. I have all these wounds. What only should I tell them I wonder?”

Something about Izaya let Shizuo falter, and it was not the just spoken threat. He felt... strangely sorry.

“You can't prove that. And I don't believe even you would want to put us both through this. Your old clothes are still here, you know.”

“You have no idea what I'm able to make people believe if I see fit.” All traces of amusement gone, Izaya now glared murderously.

With one of them disabled, staring contests seemed to be their new found way of demonstrating dominance.

“Fine. Call the police.” A slow smirk formed on Shizuo's face.

Why should he let such a chance pass by and not taunt Izaya for once? He turned around lazily and strolled out of the bed room.

“ _Where the fuck are my phones you stupid imbecile?!”_

The door closed before he'd even finished his sentence. Did that asshole just _wink at him_?

Falling back onto the pillows with a short, but sharp flare of pain, Izaya swore to kill him. It would be his sole purpose to destroy that monster first thing after he got out of here.

For now he would rest, letting his hate run deep, letting it eat into him and fuel a hopefully highly creative and colourful way to end him.

 

Eventually he had to surrender to his exhaustion though. His eyes burned, his skin hurt. His ribs protested with each breath. Since he'd managed to get up, he was sure by now they were only badly contused and not broken. It still hurt like a bitch though. Becoming aware of his body, he suddenly was more occupied with trying to keep the overwhelming pain at bay, than planing to kill his much hated nemesis. He tried to focus. Carefully squirming into the most comfortable position, smelling the sheets around him. Fabric softener, smoke and something else. Something soothing. Despite his resentment for literally everything right now, he was too weak to fight off sleep for too long. He drifted into unconsciousness and hoped this situation would expose itself as just a really bad nightmare.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we have Izaya charming as ever. ^^
> 
> I hope we will soon have some plot going, if not... well let's hope I won't turn this into some slice of life thing here. I have a vague outline, but otherwise I mostly try to go along with what my brain produces when I sit in front of the computer... I'm sorry...
> 
> Thank you all so much for commenting and leaving Kudos already! I'm completely baffled anyone reads this at all, since I'm mostly trying to satisfy my own needs here. :)


	3. Chapter 3

It was unsettling. More than that actually. Staring out into the rainy night through this dirty little window. Not much of a view, just the little street down there and on the other side another low class apartment building. Nothing compared to his large window front in his upscale Shinjuku loft. Where he could see all his lovely little humans flooding the streets of this city that never seemed to sleep. Like ants they crawled from one hole to the next, the steady stream of traffic pulsing though the streets like blood through the veins of one big organism. Flowing live, giving this huge entity a soul.

He couldn't decipher what string of events, or what irrational thinking had led up to him ending up _here_. Why Shizuo? What had possessed the blond to think it'd be appropriate to take him home? He wouldn't have died if he hadn't done so. He was pretty sure. And if so, why did he care? This hadn't been the first time he had been beaten like that and... no. It had been a first time, but Izaya's mind already started to built up high barriers to not let him think about it. It was his pride that got hurt most. That was it and nothing more. He won't let this get to him, he was more than that. He was above this.

A sharp sting tore him out of his thoughts, as he unconsciously had grabbed his bandaged wrist too tightly. He gasped in surprise and let go. His hands were still shaking. Scratches and bruises were scattered all over his usually immaculate skin. He could tell his wrist was still swollen badly, he couldn't even move it right. After the fever finally had left his body, he was hyper sensitive and painfully aware of each and every single bruise on his body. His side, his shin, his wrist hurt the most. The terrible pain in his lower back when he moved only the slightest bit, was nothing he would pay any mind. It simply wasn't there.

“You should eat something.”

The brute, leaning in the doorframe, with his arms crossed over his chest watched him closely. Not able to hide his bitter amusement, Izaya hung his head with a small huff. He really wasn't at his best when even a klutz like Shizuo could sneak up on him like that.

“You should drop dead.”

Shizuo remained standing in the door, his gaze fixed on Izaya.

“How's your fever?” He asked plain, Izaya couldn't tell if he was angry or simply annoyed.

“That is none of your business.” Izaya looked back to the window, but now he focused on the tall figure behind him in the reflection. Still unmoving how he stood there, but something seemed different. The atmosphere wasn't tense. Shizuo wasn't.

“You're gonna eat something if I make it or not?”

Izaya's eyes fell shut, before he turned his head to examine Shizuo.

“Why are you doing this?”

Why? He was asking him why he didn't let Izaya die a miserable death between some trash cans and filth? Did Izaya really mean it like that when he called him a monster? Hah, of course he did.

“What are you trying to prove here, Shizu-chan?”

“I'm not trying to prove anything. Maybe you should stop thinking so superior of yourself.” He pushed himself from the door frame and stepped inside the room. Izaya watched him coming closer until he was standing at the end of the bed.

“As much as you want me to be this monster that you made up in your twisted mind, I will not prove you right. I may be capable of doing things that are not... common. But this doesn't mean I'll step over a half dead body on my way home, not even if it's you.”

“You want to kill me.” Izaya spoke softly, with a light smile and if the words wouldn't stand in such strong contrast to his tone, Shizuo could've sworn he'd just confessed his love to him.

“I want you dead. This doesn't mean I want to be a killer.”

Izaya revelled in the solemn voice of his enemy. “Mhmm and yet you foil what someone else started. Ne, Shizu-chan I'd never thought you to be such a hypocrite.”

He looked up at the blond, wondering what was going on in this strange mind he could never read.

“Why are you acting like nothing happened?”

“Ne?”

“You were crying.” From all the things that Shizuo saw yesterday, this was the one thing that had burned itself into his brain and didn't let him go. It had been something that simply shouldn't exist. Izaya wasn't supposed to have a soul. A soul that could get hurt even less. But it's funny now that he thought about it. He wanted Izaya to see that he actually isn't that monster he created, but in return he thought the same of Izaya.

Instead of an answer he only got the unreadable mask he knew oh so well. Izaya wasn't going to answer him. But things started to change. Shizuo couldn't see him as the same pure evil he'd always taken for granted. Now there was more.

“You don't want this Shizu-chan. You don't want to know anything about me. You want to destroy and nothing else. Don't act like you feel anything like sympathy or pity. If you do, I'll be sure to end you. Here in this shitty little hole you call a home or else where. I will end you.”

There was no sarcasm in Izaya's tone, no cynic grin. He was dead serious and Shizuo knew he'd hit a nerve.

“You can threaten me when you're not tied to a bed anymore. Now eat something.” Shizuo walked away feeling those ruby eyes boring into his back. He felt like fleeing, he felt like prey. Something about Izaya had sunk it's claws into him. It was more than hatred this time. He'd seen something vulnerable and it was messing with him. He wanted to know why. Why Izaya did the things he did. Why he became like that. No person is born that way. That would be a reality Shizuo was not able to accept. There must be a reason why he hated him. If he could only recall. Sure, Izaya had given him plenty of reasons over time, but now that he thought about it... there never really was one in the beginning.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ramen? Instant Ramen?”

“That's all I got so shut up.”

Izaya raised an eyebrow at the hot bowl on the nightstand and frowned. Eventually he picked it up and smelled at the hot broth. His stomach cramped up, he hadn't eaten anything in the last two days and was actually starving.

He watched the blond sitting on the floor over the edge of his bowl. Shizuo's back leaning against the wall, his arms propped onto his pulled up knees, a cigarette dangling from his long fingers. He'd changed his stupid bartender outfit into a casual white T-shirt and some dark blue track pants, his sunglasses no where to be seen. It was refreshing.

“This is pretty awkward, ne?”

“You don't say.”

“You're the one forcing us into this situation.” Izaya grinned, enjoying the obvious unease creeping over Shizuo.

“You seem to feel pretty good.” _Why the hell was he relieved to see Izaya all snarky and in a good mood again?!_

Izaya just continued to glare at him. That striking red held him captive. If he could only dive into those ruby eyes and find what he was looking for.

“Izaya?”

He settled for a long pause, waiting for any kind of reaction.

“Who did this to you?”

“What? Are you gonna avenge me now?”

Shizuo did his best to ignore the other's sardonic antics. “I just wanna know who is capable of bringing you to your knees like that.”

The blond's words were a slap in Izaya's face. His mask slipped and his hand holding the chopsticks sunk.

“So you wanna know what it takes to do the same?”

It was painful to watch Izaya trying so hard. It was wrong. It showed Shizuo there must be something else underneath and it made him sick.

“I wanna know, so I can find them myself and hunt them out of my city. When they can do this to you, they must be even more of a pest than you are.”

Trying to hide his irritation, he broke eye contact and took a long drag of his cigarette. The soft clonk from the bowl being placed on the nightstand let him look up again.

“Ne Shizu-chan, got some tea?”

 

* * *

 

 

“I said I can do this myself.” Izaya bit through gritted teeth, holding himself up with his good hand propped against the wall.

“Alright, suit yourself.” He wasn't gonna beg the flea to let him help him. If he wanted to collapse in his hall again so badly, fine. Shizuo walked ahead towards the kitchen to set up some water.

Leaning against the counter with his hands in his pockets, he watched Izaya carefully sitting down on the couch. His head sunk onto the backrest as he breathed and tried to control the pain in his side.

“What do you want?”

Izaya huffed with a strained smirk, looking up at him. Had the blond just asked him what kind of tea he wanted? Could he even hear himself talking?

“What about green?”

“Don't have any.”

“Then what do you have? Seriously, you're Japanese and you don't even have green tea at home.”

Shizuo rolled his eyes and turned to the cupboard to look through the few little boxes.

“There's fruit, white tea and chai.”

“Did you know that chai is simply the indian word for tea? You just offered me tea tea.”

“What the- You know what, make it yourself you fucking-”

“Alright alright, what about white tea then.” Izaya lazily waved his hand dismissively. Grumbling, Shizuo pulled out the pack and started preparing two cups.

For the first time since he's here, Izaya's head finally felt clear enough to take in his surroundings. Like he assumed, it was a cheap, little apartment with sparse furniture. A simple light brown couch with a simple wooden coffee table. An old Tv, which Izaya was sure must be from the last century or something. The walls were mostly blank, except for a small mirror over a boring dresser on the far end of the room, leading to the doorway. The blinds were only halfway down and he could see the windows weren't really clean in this room either. Yet, the rest of the apartment was tidy. It simply looked like no one was here most of the time.

It's almost a miracle that Shizuo could hide Izaya's things with so little options.

Shizuo placed a cup with steaming liquid in front of him and then sat down with his own in hands. Izaya wrinkled his nose.

“Tea bags? Oh well, what was I expecting.” He mocked, picking up his tea with a side glance at the blond.

“I'm so very sorry I'm not up to your standards. If it's such a fucking pain then just don't drink it.”

Izaya merely huffed a laugh, and tasted the tea. It wasn't too bad actually.

“Who would've thought you could be so tame.”

Shizuo's nerves were strained enough and those words would've surely let him snap, if Izaya's tone wouldn't have been so honest this time.

“Did... did you just put sugar into your tea?”

“What?” Shizuo looked from Izaya to the box on the table where he'd just taken two cubes of sugar from.

“You can't be serious. Do you have to ruin everything with that sweet shit?”

“Why do you care how I drink my fucking tea? Also what do you mean everything?”

Izaya tsked, taking a sip of his own. “I mean like how you also put sugar into your coffee, and all those disgustingly sweet cakes. I'm surprised your teeth didn't rot away by now.”

Shizuo stared dumbfounded, his brow twitching slightly. “Are you fucking spying on me you little shit?!”

“My my Shizu-chan, put down your cup-”

But it was too late. The cup already burst into pieces and hot tea splattered everywhere. Shizuo was standing, glowering down at Izaya who, for the first time felt a whiff of regret at his own words.

“Calm down you big brute. It's my job. Don't think I ever felt the need to observe you specifically. Nothing lies further from my intentions.”

Shizuo's fist was shaking and he did everything in his might to not punch the one in front of him into a bloody pulp.

“You are detestable.” He growled.

There was no fear in Izaya's eyes. Only a curious, searching gaze met his furious one, and to his own surprise, this was what calmed him down. Izaya was not afraid of him. No, he was disturbingly interested, but still. There had never been anyone who could keep his composure in the face of a raging Shizuo. Except Izaya.

Tiredly he flopped down again, opening his fist and letting the shards rain onto the wet floor.

“Isn't it incredibly exhausting to always flip at everything immediately?”

“Shut up, flea.”

Izaya hid his gleeful smirk in his cup.

Celty was right. He wasn't sure if they could handle being in one small apartment without ever trying to kill each other. The only thing that gave Shizuo the merest hope was he himself. He would not fall for Izaya's vicious tongue.

As if Izaya could read exactly what's on his mind, he asked: “Aren't you afraid I'm gonna slit your throat while you're asleep?”

“No.”

That answer came too quick for Izaya's liking. “No?” He sneered.

“Look Izaya, I fucking tried to help you. If you really try that, it'll probably be the last thing you'll do.”

“Oh? Is that a promise?”

“What is that supposed to mean now? I'm not expecting anything from you, can't you just shut up?” He was so done. He was tired and he was scared that this could lead to let him do things he'd regret.

To both, his relieve and aggravation, the tense atmosphere broke as a cellphone started ringing obnoxiously.

“The shoe cabinet? Really? How trite.” Izaya frowned and sipped his tea, while Shizuo muttered cusses under his breath and got up to retrieve the phone.

“Namie-san.” he read aloud from the display informing Izaya who perked up immediately.

“Give it to me!” He motioned like an excited child. Shizuo faltered inwardly at this too quick change of attitude, but obeyed.

“Namie! You won't believe where I am!... what? No I'm not dead yet. … Yes I'm very sorry to disappoint you. Who would have thought I'd ever be happy to hear your cold, unattractive voice-... what?”

Shizuo stared at Izaya who chattered away as if he wasn't there at all. Then something in his voice suddenly changed.

“Then I'd advice you to leave and don't come back until I tell you so. … That's none of your business. … That's part of the job... Just do as I say and activate the security system. If they come again I want their faces on tape. … Let's call it unpaid vacation, ne?”

Shizuo rounded the couch, walking into the kitchen to get a towel for the spilled tea, paying close attention to what Izaya said. When he came back and dropped the towel on the table Izaya sounded really serious.

“Look, you don't want to know... ouch that was mean... not yet at least. Go home and stay quiet for a while. Oh and one more thing, send my notebook and the latest folders for Shiki-san to the address I'm giving you now.”

Shizuo listened how Izaya told this woman his address and got more and more confused.

“I really don't care. Try to improve your cooking skills for your brother… I'll see what I can do, maybe you're lucky this time.”

He hung up and dropped the phone next to him on the couch, rubbing his eyes with his good hand.

“What the hell was that about?”

Izaya glared, not sure if what he just did maybe was one of the most insane things he'd ever done. There was no time, and no choice. He could still wait for his things to arrive and then go find a hotel. Yes, that's what he'll do. But first...

“Promise me to not kill me during a second night, Shizu-chan?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaayyy expect some plot next chapter... finally ^^
> 
> I dunno, this feels like a filler episode, no? Also my soft spot for Shizuo is showing, geez. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the Kudos and comments! Also a big thank you to all of you who help me to correct this more and more, you guys save my life <3 I'm so glad I'm not the only one enjoying this to a certain degree, haha.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions, wishes, complains please feel free to comment or stalk me on tumblr. My url is evamylee0 (I'm too stupid and too lazy for these html codes, sorry)
> 
> I appreciate every form of critic. :)
> 
> (Oh and btw english is not my first language so I apologize for every mistake)


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